


safe and warm

by SimpleAndScarce



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Body Expansion, Body Inflation, Breast Expansion, Breast Inflation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Egg Laying, Other, Oviposition, Tentacles, first time posting something like this let me know if it needs more tags, indiscernible fluids, mpreg ??? I guess, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleAndScarce/pseuds/SimpleAndScarce
Summary: Thancred is stuffed full of malboro eggs. Thats it thats the fic.Takes place in post-heavensward.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	safe and warm

When he is thoroughly ejected from the Lifestream, Thancred resides to thank Y’Shtola heartily for saving his life and then immediately curse her for sending him to the middle of Gods-know-where with no weapon and _no clothes._

Thancred manages to find a relatively safe and _secluded_ area to attempt to get his bearings. The scrub looks almost reminiscent of the canyons of Thanalan but, no, the vegetation is far too green and the air far too _cold_ to be anywhere near the capital of Ul’dah. If the Lifestream is everywhere then it’s entirely possible he’s in an altogether unfamiliar country and he has no way at all of knowing where he is or what local flora could possibly be edible. His only option then is to attempt to find or fashion some sort of weapon or tool and make use of the local fauna, fur and flesh both. 

Of course, stealth is supposed to be his strong suit, and it is, just perhaps not at the current moment. He has a lot on his mind, he’ll defend if anyone asks, and whatever land he may be in he knows that it is most certainly not the proper home for a malboro or all creatures. The hulking, slimy thing catches him off guard as he passes a small pool where it seems to have made its nest. Typically the horrid things make their place in swamp areas where people will not bother them and, despite the lush greenery about, wherever _here_ is certainly is not a swamp. Perhaps this is a special regional variety, Thancred things to himself while he tip toes round the beast as carefully as he may, eyes glued to the creature.

So glued, in fact, that he doesn’t notice the wandering pup catch sight of him and he doesn’t manage to duck or run for cover before the little thing lets out a wailing cry for its mother. 

Before he can think another thought of the revelation that might be a new species of malboro, Thancred’s hands are taken by deft tendrils and he is hoisted bodily up by the beast mother and the creature takes a few, deep snifts of him. Thancred braces for the slime and the teeth, not sure what to do without any blade to protect him but the moment never comes. Instead another tendril comes up to his legs, circling slowly and spreading sticky mucus around him. 

Ye Gods. 

At least, he thinks to himself, at least if he is to be the horrid beast’s broodmare he has a significantly higher chance of survival than being digested. Though it is cold comfort as he is laid gently onto the edge of the pool, the malboro taking care to keep his head on dry land but also to retain his wrists in a vice grip above his head. Kicking and attempting to run doesn’t even occur to Thancred at this point as he’s much more likely to me a gruesome end if he does, but still two more tendrils come to each of his ankles to pin them down in the shallow water. All he can do now is breath deeply and pray to any god that might hear him. 

The tendril that has come to between his legs moves more deliberately now that Thancred is properly positioned, and spreads its mucus around his whole lower abdomen, taking particular care with his entrance and his stomach, rubbing gently above his hips in an almost calming manner. Tahnred tries, mostly, not to think too hard, knowing he is thoroughly lost. 

The tendril shifts back down to his entrance and begins prepping him already, slowly pressing in just the barest amount, as if to judge how much work must be done to accomplish its deed. Another smaller one comes to his member, drawing soft lines across it to make it rise. Thancred can’t help hating his reaction, knowing full well it is best for his survival to simply let it happen. The tendril dipping within him is now letting out some new fluid that, as it touches his skin, leaves a warm, prickling feeling behind. The beast utilizes Thancred’s newfound pliability to pull him open more, allowing for some further girth of the tendril to be inserted. 

Thancred groans lowly at the pressure, and the stretch and the sound elicits more small, thin arms of the beast to come down to him, resting on his torso and playing with his nipples. They, too, secrete the warm fluid, wreaking havoc on his nerves. He huffs and gasps, writhing under their ministrations but they do not relent, slowly circling the pert nubs.

It’s then that he feels the thicker tendril within him grow. Only slightly thicker it becomes, but it’s like a wave, setting every never within him alight. Thick fluid pours into him now in far more vast quantities than the thin mucus spread over him before. Now it fills him from the inside, making his muscles cramp and his stomach destend like he’s full from a meal. It aches terribly, and he can feel himself only growing more full and the creature continues it’s onslaught. The tendril within pumps slowly, encouraging the fluid to flow deeper into him, finding more and more crevices and crannies to fill in his slight frame. Thancred feels the ache up into his ribs, full in a way he never thought he could be. And still the other, smaller tendrils continue their ministrations, caressing his cock and teasing his nipples.

The tendril pulses again, the girth of it growing even more and Trancred wills himself to be calm, to let his body relax because it will only hurt more if he braces for impact. Shot into him are the eggs of the beast, each about the size of a child’s fish and perhaps ten or twenty of the things are rushed into his waiting body. Already full to burst with the creature's fluids, Thancred doesn’t know if he can handle it, watching his stomach reach out even further, the skin aching and crying out. 

And still the monster continues. With a new tendril gentle stroking Thancred’s lower torso, the one within pumps in even more of it’s eggs. He feels every one of them pop into his abused entrance and he swears he could feel them float and settle in the waiting liquid. He groans again, terribly full and achingly hard with the rough play on his hole and cock both. 

He feels the same stretch on his chest now that he feels in his gut and gasps. The tendrils playing with his nipples slide over his pecs, the tingling mucus growing stronger to abide the pain as his skin stretches, his sculpted chest turning to breasts, skin growing taught and aching. He wants to reach down, massage his aching skin with his own hands but he can’t with his wrists tight in the malboro’s grip. As he struggles, the monster seems to understand and the tendrils on his chest press firmly into his skin, willing the pain away and leaving only the dull aching fullness. 

Only now as the pain subsides does he hazard a new look at his stomach as the monster continues to pump in load after load of eggs. Now he looks like any woman come to full term with a child, though their stomachs are most often smooth and round. Thancred’s stomach distended from his body almost wildly, so full he is with the malboro’s eggs that he can see defined outlines of some of them, so tightly packed his body is with the creature's brood. 

Thancred can’t help himself, especially when more tendrils come down, massaging both his aching chest and his bloated stomach, pressing deeply on both and only making him feel more full, more used and abused. The tendril within him still pumps, not for pouring more eggs into him as the beast seems to be free of them but, seemingly, for Thancred’s own pleasure. And who is he to refuse? The tendrils on his cock have been drawing out every bit of pleasure that they can manage in this onslaught, and they wrench an orgasm from him, his own seed falling into the brackish pond water, unseeable under his stuffed stomach. 

Thancred feels like crying the high is so good. Maybe it’s the fluids from the beast or maybe, he tries not to think too hard but the thought still creeps into his mind, maybe he needs to come out to malboro infested waters more often.

The malboro almost entirely withdraws from him when Thancred reaches his climax. All but the tendril in his entrance, which swaps place with another tendril, which promptly breaks from the body of the beast. Thancred knows that this is to keep anything from slipping out, to keep him packed full and holding the eggs till they are ready to be released from him in several days time. He’ll be stuck here, unable to move and frequently worked into the same heated frenzy as he just was, but he’s be kept alive, warm and fed, till then. And maybe by then he’ll have an idea as to where to procure some weapons to defend himself from any more would-be attackers.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Thancred and when I see him on screen I can't decide if I wanna fuck him or be fucked by him so instead i fill him with eggs. With love ♡


End file.
